Directive
by Takhrenixe
Summary: All robots are built with an instinctive knowledge of what their creator made them for: their directive. When one loses both creator and directive, other things can settle in... -SonMetal -sort of- oneshot-


**Hello again, my fellow FanFictioners! How are you this evening/morning/whenever you're reading my fics? :D  
This is a sort of sisterfic for Element Eighty's SonMetal oneshot (AKA, this is a present for her, and I'm shamelessly promoting my literature as well as hers because they are concerning the same pairing); she wrote hers, so I figured I needed to quit stalling and do mine.  
To Double E: Thanks for giving me the kick-in-the-arse needed to finish this! :D**

**-long, aggravated disclaimer ahead, skip if you can't be bothered to read it (I wouldn't blame you)-**

**DISCLAIMER: Take a moment and ask yourself; how in Chaos' name could an amateur such as myself have devised the immortal Sonic the Hedgehog? I need not say whether I do or don't own it, really. Disclaimers are truly unnecessary, the cause being that so many thousands of people write about Sonic, it gets redundant. You shouldn't use a disclaimer; rather, it would make more sense not to, and in the rare offchance you actually **_**do**_** happen to own one of the most successful gaming icons in all history, simply write that you **_**claim**_** the following characters and/or plotline. It would make things a lot easier for authors everywhere.**

**Please excuse my long-winded ranting; I read a thousand pages worth of Edgar Allen Poe-try and I'm stuck in 'long-sentences-and-fancy-words-mode'.**

**Dedicated to Element Eighty, one of about three (that I know of) SonMetal fans on this planet. Here's to you, Double E...again! xD**

* * *

I am Metal.

I am the ultimate machine.

I am the master of all robotics, the epitome of technology at its very finest.

...Why, then, am I plagued by such horrid things as emotion?

Why, then, do I feel reluctant to complete my directive?

_**Priority One Hedgehog: Located**_

Oh, shut up.

_**Priority One Hedgehog: Located**_

Make someone else do it.

_**PRIORITY ONE HEDGEHOG: LOCATED**_

Alright already! Fine! I acknowledge!

_**Commencing Battle Protocol**_

Stand down.

_**Commencing Battle Protocol**_

I said, stand down. I'm not fighting him.

_**Sighting of Priority One Hedgehog Requires Battle Protocol**_

Stand. Down.

_**Sighting of Priority One Hedgehog Requires-**_

I don't care!

_**WARNING: DIRECT DISOBEDIENCE TO MASTER ROBOTNIK**_

I am my own master. I answer to no one.

_**DIRECT DISOBEDIENCE TO MASTER ROBOTNIK; REPORT TO BASE IMMEDIATELY FOR MAINTENANCE AND/OR DISMANTLING**_

Do you _ever_ shut up?

...I guess ripping it out of my hull with my bare claws shut it up. Good.

And now I'm talking to myself. Wonderful. At least the Hedgehog is gone.

I really should have gotten rid of my command matrix years ago. It would have saved me a lot of harassment from the thing for shirking my 'duties'.

What are those, even? Technically, I lost the 'kill Hedgehog' commands the second I freed myself of that giant oaf's control, so what have I been trying to accomplish for the last three years?

Absolutely nothing, really.

Nothing except watching the one in whose image I was created after. Guess that makes me a bit obsessive, doesn't it?

Strange. I used to want that infuriating Hedgehog dead by my own hands...well, claws...but never did the situation favor my carrying out of such an aim; now it seems like every other day, the opportunity arises -shoves itself in my face, really- and yet I have no more desire to harm him than would one of his many companions.

I've even gone so far as to save his sorry hide from multiple dangers that only his specialized brand of careless idiocy could have gotten him involved in, knocking him out of the paths of lasers, rampaging machines and the like and disappearing before he knew I'd been there.

I can just imagine the look on 'Master Robotnik's' face if he saw me any of those times. It almost makes me wish I had a mouth, so I could laugh.

...A robot shouldn't have feelings. Take it from someone who knows. Really. At times I've tried to delete my own hard drive to get rid of the -what would you humans call it?- depression. Tried and failed, because my programming is encrypted and I can't access it without some alarm going off in my head. So I'm still depressed. Joy.

I'm a mecha, for glitch's sake. Dilemmas such as depression _should not be _in my programming. Ever. I shouldn't even know what feeling _is_!

Why do I, then? Why am I different from all the other mindlessly submissive droids on this planet? It doesn't seem fair that I should have to suffer while they're practically living the phrase 'ignorance is bliss'. Did my creator foresee that the Hedgehog would affect me in this way, and _make_ me different as a sort of cruel joke?

Speaking of which, there he goes again, gone before I can even see him properly, as is typically the case when we cross paths.

Blasted Hedgehog...I don't even want to be thinking about him, but I can't seem to ignore the rush of -what's the word, again?- emotion that comes with those thoughts.

Anger, because I cannot rid myself of him.

Confusion, because I have no clue _why _I can't.

Strangely, sadness. Because of him, because I can't be myself anymore. Because I can't be what I was _meant _for, and because I don't have a reason for that, either.

...Take it from someone who knows.

A robot should never have feelings.


End file.
